


Reaping Day

by MoxieArts



Series: They're a Dime a Dozen [1]
Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Blood and Gore, District 3 (Hunger Games), Everyone is Dead, Hunger Games, Other, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 13:46:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4668905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoxieArts/pseuds/MoxieArts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hiro Hamada has had a good life so far. His parents death when he was one is kind of a blessing, in his eyes. It’s only because of that that his Tadashi and him moved from District 7 to District 3, where their Aunt Cass lived. Because of this move, Hiro had been introduced to robotics and instantly became lovestruck. This love with technology will have to save his hide, because this Reaping is going to be like nothing he’s ever known.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reaping Day

Hiro awakes to the screeching of his favourite invention, Bitho. His dark brown eyes pop open in panic and the boy propels himself out of bed, dashing down the hall to see what’s wrong with the poor creature. He throws open the door, eyes flickering around wildly only to land on Bitho, who is struggling to escape the confines of his Aunt Cass’ vase. Hiro sighs heavily, relief flooding him as he pads forward and kneels on the floor next to his struggling invention. The cat-sized robot thrashed about again, emitting another pained screech from it’s speakers. Hiro clicked the button at the base of Bitho’s ear quickly, turning off it’s voice box before Aunt Cass or his brother could wake up. 

The small robot’s camera lenses turned up at him, as if in disbelief that he would ever turn off the voice box. Hiro simply wriggled his fingers underneath the invention’s chest plates and pushed against the smooth plastic, compressing it tightly so he could pull the thing out. With one sharp yank, Bitho was free of the vase and struggling against Hiro’s grasp to break free and run around. “Hold on a second there, bud!” the boy chastised, his thumbs pressing hard into the warm scanners located where the creatures heart would be. Bitho stilled and calmed down, reading Hiro’s heartbeat and responding to the steady thumping. 

Now that Bitho was calm, Hiro put the creature down on the ground in order to look at it’s body for any scratches or torn wiring. Thankfully, the invention had only scuffed up some of the platelets on it’s back where the wings should pop out- an easy fix. Hiro studied the small creatures body while it was still, a frown quirking his lips as he pondered ways to make his companion better. He might be able to upgrade Bitho’s exterior to a thinner material, but he’d grown quite attached to the smooth plastic. A hum vibrated in the back of his throat as he thought, and Bitho tried to mimic it, though no sound came out. 

Hiro flicked his voice box back on and the small creature let out a contented hum much like Hiro’s. The boy smiled for a fraction of a second before taking one of the creatures fore-paws in his hand and looking at it curiously. The paws were as big as his thumb, and extended into small hands similar to his own for helping him on projects. The back paws were more like a monkeys- he’d spent weeks trying to find a book on the elusive creature from before the war just so he could base Bitho off of it. However, the creature had ended up as more of a cat with monkey featuristics than a money itself. 

“Bitho, the time please.” Hiro asked, releasing the paw and running his thumb across the creatures back left leg. A series of clicks and squeaks chirped out and Hiro hummed thoughtfully. Bitho could really use and upgrade, but today was the day of The Reaping... Though, that wasn’t until later this morning and it was still four a.m.; 4:03 to be exact. Hiro quirked his mouth and picked the creature up, looking into it’s camera lenses carefully. “Well, it’s up to you, then. Would you like some upgrades?” As expected, Bitho let out a digitized meow and wagged its tail. 

Hiro wasted no time and got right to work, taking the creature apart swiftly and re-thinking all his designs. He decided to scrap the wings and weapons built into the creatures back and chest- Bitho was never used for fighting anymore. Hiro had grown too attached to the small creature. . . And, he’d designed a better bot for those fights. Bitho was now just a companion bot, so the wings and blades were useless here. As Hiro rebuilt the robot he let his mind wander a bit, thinking about when he’d first built Bitho. 

It had started as a science fair project in third grade. Most children built volcanoes or electronic replicas of the Capitol or where the Hunger Games had been that year. Hiro had been stuck on ideas, and went to his brother (who was in eighth grade at the time, making him the coolest person in the world). At the Time, Tadashi had been working on a robotics project for one of his classes, and jokingly suggested Hiro make himself a robot to entertain himself with when Tadashi was busy as he was at the time. Hiro took these words seriously, though, and immediately started reading through Tadashi’s robotics books. Something about the books just clicked with him and he sped through all three volumes within a week. If he didn’t know a word, he looked it up and memorized it’s meaning until he understood it completely. 

With four days until the science fair, Hiro had set to work. His older brother had allowed him to use his lab, not suspecting at all that Hiro was making anything more than another volcano. Hiro ate his meals quickly and rarely slept over the next four days, refusing to let his brother or Aunt Cass look at what he was making. The only one allowed in the room at the same time as his project was Moshi, their rescued cat whom Hiro seemed suddenly interested in. With three hours to the science fair, Hiro finished. 

It was cumbersome to carry, and he’d put it into a good sized box for transportation. It was three times as heavy as Hiro, leaving Tadashi and Aunt Cass to struggle carrying it while the tiny boy flitted around excitedly and watched them to make sure they didn’t peek inside the box. It had to be a total surprise, he kept telling them whenever they asked. Once at the school, Tadashi and Aunt Cass were finally able to set down the heavy box with a solid thud and two relieved sighs. Hiro bounced excitedly and waited for his teacher to come over before opening up the box and peering inside. 

A second later he’d pulled out a clunky controller for a video game, with wires and metal spilling out the top, connecting to something in the box. Everyone was expecting a volcanic explosion, but instead heard the sound of something whirring to life. With quick fingers over the controls, Hiro led his robot out of the box for everyone to see. At the time, Bitho was completely metal and twice the size of a normal cat. Wires connected it to Hiro’s remote and the boy guided his creation around the table happily. From then on, he’d taken advanced classes and hopped from grade to grade until he graduated, only a year after his brother. Through all these classes and grade-hoppings, Hiro made less and less friends. The less friends he had, the more upgrades Bitho got and the more time he spent with the robot. 

By sixth grade, Hiro was ten and out in the streets bot fighting. Bitho wasn’t the greatest, but he won Hiro a lot of fights. District 3 had a surprising amount of illegal activity, though it was to be expected with how far it was from the Capitol. By eighth grade, Bitho was sleek and fast, winning an eleven year old Hiro enough money to buy better materials each time. His Aunt Cass had no idea, and Tadashi refuse to rat him out. He assured their Aunt that the materials were from Robotics club, and not to worry. After Hiro graduated two years ago, he went to fewer bot fights and spent most of his time upgrading Bitho to be more Companionable. Once school was out, Hiro realized he really didn’t have any friends outside of his brother. That was fine by him, none of the kids his age were interested in the things he was or all viewed him as a freak. 

For the past two years, Hiro had been slowly removing the weapons and sharp edges, replacing them with smooth plastic and vinyl. Now, rewiring Bitho’s hard drive, the bot is for nothing but Companionship. Hiro slips the bot’s platelets back together and powers it back on, watching happily as it powers up. Bitho blinks around and assesses the new information plugged in before bouncing up and walking around experimentally, testing out it’s smaller body. Bitho finishes assessing it’s data chip before quirking it’s head at Hiro as if to question his decisions. Hiro nods quickly, encouraging the bot to use it’s upgrades. The sleek bot makes a quiet hum and puts all four feet together in a tight circle before compressing itself tightly and settling down. Wires whirr quietly as Bitho’s frame continues to fold into itself and it flattens into a thin disk that Hiro can comfortably pick up in his hand. 

Bitho makes an odd squeak, as if it’s not comfortable with being so small yet. “Oh come on Bithe- this way you can come to Reapings with me and not have to fly away because of the dumb guards.” The past two years, Bitho had tried following Hiro into the Reaping, only to be chased away by the guards. Usually, the bot just flies around them and continues flying until it finds Hiro, but that’s a lot of work and uses up too much of his power. At another angry squeak, Hiro runs his thumb across the sensor and it recognizes his heartbeat before coming undone back into regular Bitho. The bot seems to snort, and sounds his alarm for the day. Oh. It’s already eleven o’clock. How did that happen? Sure, Hiro had been vaguely aware of Cass and Tadashi waking up, bringing him a plate of food, telling him to get dressed, but geez. He must have seriously gotten sucked into his work. Not wasting anymore time than he already has, Hiro scoops the small robot up and dashes back to his room. 

He throws Bitho to the bed, knowing the robot will land safely, and begins getting dressed hurriedly. Bitho chatters at him from the bed, calmly going from corner to corner and straightening up the covers. “Yeah, Yeah, I know. . . No, I’m not gonna be late. . . Shush!” Hiro manages to get his foot into his pants without tripping and pulls them up quickly. He slips into his button up shirt and whistles for Bitho to follow before dashing out his door and down the hall to grab his uneaten breakfast. Hiro has to hurdle over Moshi, still buttoning his shirt as he does. by the end of the hall most of his shirt is buttoned and he stops to scoop up the bread. It’s cold, but he shoves the entire piece in his mouth anyways, chewing with some difficulty as he buttons the last few buttons. 

Tadashi calls for him and Hiro half-swallows half-chokes the rest of his bread in order to answer. “On my way down, one second!” Bitho throws a bundle of socks at him with it’s tail and Hiro catches them gratefully before hopping from foot to foot in order to slip them on. Hiro bends down and grabs Bitho before heading down the stairs two at a time, slipping on his shoes once he gets to the closet where they are kept. Bitho whirrs at him and crawls up his arm to rest on his shoulder as he’s doing this, chattering away at him. So not helping. 

Hiro runs his fingers through his fluffy hair in order to tame it down a bit and jogs to the front door where his brother is standing impatiently. Tadashi looks him up and down and sighs a bit before pulling Hiro’s hand. “Come on, we’re gonna be late.” Tadashi mutters. It’s no use telling Hiro not to bring Bitho, he’s found. The past two years he’s tried, and Hiro has pitched such a fit that they were late both times. Three years in a row would look really bad, so Tadashi doesn’t even bother, much to Hiro’s dismay. Hiro gets over it quickly enough and walks along with his brother speedily. Bitho nestles on his shoulder in a tight circle and begins emitting warmth in comfortable waves. 

Hiro is thankful for this warmth as they approach the Pantheon and find a cold wind has blown in. Tadashi notices Hiro’s shivering and gives the younger boy his jacket. Hiro gratefully slips on the large jacket and burrows into it. The smell of coffee, spices, and oil seeps into his nose. The smell of Tadashi. Hiro looks up at his brother thankfully and they share a warm smile before parting ways. It’s Tadashi’s last year to be entered in for the Hunger Games, and only Hiro’s third. Where Tadashi is quiet about this whole ordeal, Hiro finds it kind of exciting. He always stands near the stage in hopes that one of the contestants will do something. Just four years ago, a contestant had thrown a data chip with all of her work to the crowd. Seeing as she’d been one of the top students in the school, this had been a big deal and Hiro was livid that he wasn’t there with Bitho to catch it. 

But this year would be different. If anything happened, Hiro would be right there to see it. The boy slipped Bitho into his pocket and let the little robot compact down into it’s smaller size. Hiro finally makes it up to the front of the line and they take his blood. Both guards look him up and down warily, looking for Bitho. Hiro gave them a shit-eating smile and shrugged, strolling past them with a bounce in his step. A guard grabs the back of his jacket and drags him back forcefully. “Where is the robot, kid.” a gruff man demands. Hiro laughs nervously and offers up his hands. 

“Sorry guys, it had to stay home this year, Cass’ orders! But hey,” he lightly punched the mans arm as if they were comrades. “I’ll be sure and bring Bitho next year so you guys can play, okay?” 

His teasing did nothing for him and the guards both escorted him to the side to pat him down. Hiro sighed in annoyance and let them check his pockets. One pulled out the sleek dish that was Bitho and deemed it nothing before slipping it back into his pockets. The entire search took ten minutes and Hiro could see the stage beginning to light up. “Can I go now?” he asked in slight annoyance. They let him leave with a few good glares in his direction. 

Hiro managed to wriggle his way back to the front, just a few rows away from the stage. District 3’s sponsor came out and began explaining the Hunger Games, which Hiro totally tuned out. He slid his thumb over Bitho’s scanner and felt the robot re-assemble into it’s normal size in his pocket. He glanced around for guards before letting the robot crawl up his arm and onto his shoulder just in time for the national anthem to end. District 3’s sponsor (who even knows what his name is?) walked over to the girls bowl and wriggled his hand around in there for a minute before pulling out a slip of paper. The name didn’t ring a bell to Hiro, and the blue-haired girl that made her way up the stairs quietly didn’t either. 

After the sponsor introduced the quiet girl to the Capitals cameras, he strolled over to the boys bowl and reached in. Hiro’s stomach dropped as it always did and he chewed his lip hard. After 32 seconds (he always counted for this one), the hand came back out. Hiro held his breath as their sponsor read his card. “... and Tadashi Hamada!” Hiro felt the world drop out from under him and he looked over to where Tadashi was standing. The young man looked surprised for a second before he dropped all emotion and started his march forward. Hiro came to a conclusion quickly, his mind racing as his brother walked forward slowly. His brother was all the way in the back, Hiro had to make it forward before he did. 

Bitho was yanked off his shoulder and immediately went into a disk size again, and Hiro took in a sharp breath of air, filling his lungs and raising his hand high. His voice rang loud and clear as he yelled, “I volunteer as Tribute!” All eyes turned toward him and he was hyper sensitive of each and every person looking at him. Hiro strode forward to the stairs, aware of his brother shouting and being dragged backwards by the guards. Blood roared in his ears and he put on a large grin, adding a bounce in his step as he hopped up the stairs. He barely heard the sponsor talking excitedly about the tribute and just managed to pick out his question in time to answer. 

“Hiro Hamada, Sir!” he said gleefully, looking up at the man with a sparkle in his eyes and shaking his out-stretched hand energetically. The man let out a belly-deep laugh and shook his hand happily, smiling at the camera’s. 

His gaze went down to Hiro and he knelt next to the boy to talk to him closer at Hiro’s level. “So Hiro, tell me, why did you volunteer? Was that your brother?” 

Hiro nodded vigorously and smiled at him happily. “Well, I couldn’t let my big brother have all the attention, you know!” Hiro pouted slightly and the sponsor laughed and ruffled his hair. 

“Isn’t he such a cutie, Everyone?” 

The Capitol cameras came closer, and Hiro smiled brightly and waved. “Hi Everyone!”   
The crowd below him cheered happily, excited with his energy and contagious smile. 

Next to him, the sponsor laugh and pinched Hiro’s cheek, and it was all Hiro could do to not clobber him. “Oh, the girls are just gonna eat you up!” he exclaimed happily, eyes gleaming. He let Hiro’s cheek go and stood back up. “Everyone, Terri Katiana and Hiro Hamada as this years District 3 Tributes!” The crowd exploded into cheering and Hiro followed the guards away, bouncing and skipping excitedly. 

Once he was out of sight of the camera’s and everyone else besides the guards, Hiro let his act drop. His heart pounds in his ears and he feels as if the world is spinning around him too fast to see. Hiro swallows hard and notices his hands are shaking when he runs one through his hair. Come on Hiro. Deep breaths. He manages to take a few good deep breaths and his heart slows down from hummingbird fast to I-just-ran-a-mile fast. Not much of an improvement, but still better than what it was. Hiro blindly follows the guards to the Districts Town Hall. They lead him to a room and have him wait. 

The three minutes it takes for Aunt Cass to arrive feel more like hours. As to be expected, she’s a blubbering mess and barely manages to hide it while around the guards. As soon as the doors are closed, she’s hugging Hiro to her chest and rocking him. “Hiro- oh Hiro, my strong little man.” she weeps above him. Hiro allows himself to cling to Aunt Cass, but not to cry. Crying will only break her more.

“Don’t worry Aunt Cass, I’ll be fine.” They both know this is a lie, but Hiro will favor better than Tadashi would have. Hiro at least has a chance. He’s very likable and Panem won’t want him dead. Hiro has had no issues with stealing before, and has a small if non-existent moral compass. Tadashi would have never survived past the first night. Both of them know this, and yet they both are broken inside. They fall into a tense silence, with Aunt Cass hugging him as hard as she can for the remainder of time she has left. She may never get to hold him again, and that spurs her to remember everything about this she can. Hiro tries to dedicate it to memory, the way her heart thrums as at uneven pace against his ear, how her soft hands feel smoothing down his hair, and the way she smells like coffee and sweets. When she’s pulled away by guards he promises himself he’s going to remember it all, but he’s already forgetting the exact shade of her eyes.

He has sixty seconds before Tadashi comes, and has a vague idea of what to expect. Tears, maybe some yelling. Scratch that, probably a lot of yelling. A firm hug that will probably end in them being torn apart. But, Tadashi surprises him. When he walks in he moves slow and surely, knowing everything he wants to do. He places a firm kiss on Hiro’s head before hugging him tight. The hug ends much before Hiro expects it to and the small boy can see the redness of tears in his brothers eyes. Hiro opens his mouth to say something, but Tadashi beats him to it. 

“Hiro, I’m completely betting on the fact you have Bitho with you. I want you to listen to me, ok? You’re allowed to take one singular non-weapon item into the games, but it has to be something seemingly unimportant. A pin, necklace, earring, stuff like that. You have to upgrade Bitho to become small as a pin and pin him to your shirt before the games, ok? I’ve but Baymaxes chip in your pocket just now, put that in Bitho’s reader. Please, Hiro, Please do this. It may be the only way you...” Tadashi can’t finish and hugs his stunned brother tightly. 

Hiro finds himself crying as he hugs back his brother, clinging to the tall boy for dear life and etching this into his memories. Just like with Aunt Cass, he refuses to forget how this feels. And like with Aunt Cass, they are taking Tadashi away all too soon. Hiro watches him with a pained look and yells down the hall, “Take care of Aunt Cass and Mochi while I’m gone!” The same thing he says on the rare occasions he ever leaves the house to go bot fighting or parts shopping. This time it holds so much more emotion and meaning that it’s nearly tangible. He’s commanding Tadashi to care for their Aunt, who’s going to be a broken mess when Hiro dies. 

 

The train ride is speedy, but longer than Hiro would like. He learns that his sponsor’s name is Felicitor, and his Mentor is Beetee. Hiro remembers Beetee’s the winner of the 62nd Hunger Games from eleven years ago. Hiro was only three or four at the time, but Tadashi remembered it in vivid detail and often used this as an example to Hiro that brains were better than brawn. Hiro had always admired the inventor, as his inventions were extremely popular with the Capitol. And, Beetee is still fairly young, only twenty-eight. He seems sad to be stuck training kids only to watch them die. Tribute from District 1 and 2 are far more likely to win, and Tributes from District 3 are usually not as physically fit. 

Next to him, Terri remains silent as Hiro wishes he could be. The fake smile has been plastered on his face so long it’s painful, and he wants to shoot himself for his cheery approach to the games. Beetee lets out a sigh and leans forward in his chair. “Hiro, you can drop the act, and yes, we know it’s and act. Terri, don’t shrink away from me. I’m your only hope of survival so you’re going to wanna listen.” Hiro finally lets the smile slip away and leans forward in his own chair, silent and ready to absorb any information Beetee throws at him. Terri does the same, and he sends her a curious look before looking back to Beetee. The young man sighs and looks back and forth between them carefully. “... Terri, Hiro. how old are you two?” 

Hiro swallows thickly and answers first. “I’m fourteen, fifteen in a month.” Terri next to him chews her lip and Hiro notices with a frown she seems to be looking straight through Beetee instead of at him. 

“I’m thirteen, fourteen tomorrow.” Beetee’s lips curl down into a quick frown and he mumbles something under his breath. 

“So, take a fourteen year old blind girl and fourteen year old prodigy and what do you get?” Hiro blinks at the question. He hadn’t realized Terri was blind, or that Beetee knew who he was. Both of these things confused him, as well as sparked anxiety in his heart. Without realizing he was doing it, Hiro rubbed his thumb against Bitho’s scanner to calm himself down. The creation whirred to life, and Hiro felt the blood rush to his face as both Beetee and Terri turned to him. Even Felicitor looked his way before going back to his tabloids. 

“Sorry, I uh-” Hiro began apologizing and trying to shut down Bitho, but the robot was having none of that. It had been trapped in it’s compact form for over an hour and seriously needed to explore. Amusement lit up Beetee’s face as the cat-like creature ran up Hiro’s arm before bouncing off of him and onto the table in order to scan the older man. Hiro lunged to grab the creation, but it leapt to Terri’s shoulder and whirred angrily at him. “Bitho!” he whined, embarrassment clear in his voice. Beetee was chuckling and even Terri cracked a smile at the robot perched on her shoulder. 

Hiro’s cheeks got darker and he sat back into his chair with a huff. “Whenever you’re done playing around, I’d appreciate it if you’d get back where you belong.” Bitho flicked its tail and examined Terri carefully before strolling to her other shoulder and focusing it’s lenses on Beetee again. The older man smiled at the robot and held his hand out for Bitho to walk across. 

“Well, this changes everything.” He murmured happily, eyes shining with ideas.

**Author's Note:**

> This is... certainly something. Yes. hmm.


End file.
